Of Trains and Timetables
by Protector of the Gray Fortress
Summary: Holmes and Watson discover the value of a Bradshaw.


"For heaven's sake Watson!" Holmes stamped into the flat of 221b and tossed his valise down on the chair.

Watson trailed in after him, rather red-faced and breathing quite heavily, though whether it was from anger or exertion one could not be sure.

"That was the last train to Cornwall!"

Watson set his bags down, as though very glad indeed to be rid of the weight.

"I'm quite aware of the fact Holmes!"

Holmes stripped off his Inverness with wild abandon and flung it at the coatrack where it hit the wall with a very loud thud and fell to the floor.

Watson scowled and retrieved it, pulling something from one of the pockets. He lifted his revolver free and eyed it almost tenderly. "That's the last time I let you carry this."

"Well I won't ask for it then. I'll get my own, better that way anyhow. I don't need you to fire a revolver…and are you just going to leave my coat lying on the floor!?"

Watson's scowl darkened and he sighed, picking up the coat while Holmes threw himself into his armchair with a dismal moan.

"Well, we can kiss this case goodbye Watson, really, missing the train for the climax."

Watson tossed the coat carelessly over a chair and seated himself at the table.

There was a rather awkward silence during which the coat slid promptly to the floor.

"You've set everything in motion though old boy." the good Doctor observed, mournfully viewing the dishes that held the now cold meal that they had abandoned for the train not an hour ago. "I've little doubt that inspector Henley will follow your instructions to the letter and bring Sir Thomas' prowler to justice…I wonder if we could persuade Mrs. Hudson to reheat this pie…"

Holmes let out a harsh laugh. "Oh that's a great consolation Watson. Once again the public will benefit from my hard labor and it will be the local, ninny police force that gets all the credit!"

Watson tore his gaze away from the lost supper and eyed his companion skeptically. "You said you didn't care about the credit."

Holmes glared at him and sank lower in his chair, grumbling under his breath.

Watson leaned closer and put a hand up to his ear. "What? Sorry I didn't catch that?" he asked, his voice a little louder then was necessary.

"I said, everyone enjoys a little recognition now and then!" Holmes shouted back.

"Oh…well…at least we can laugh about this later on eh? The case of the Misplaced Bradshaw." Watson grinned, but the expression faded when Holmes did not laugh.

Holmes lapsed into a dark silence, staring pensively at the cold grate.

Watson sighed and got up from the table, going to sit in the chair opposite.

"Come on old fellow, it's not the end of the world…everyone has to miss a train every now and then."

Holmes glared up at him without turning his head.

"We wouldn't have missed it if you hadn't stopped to talk to that barmaid."

Watson's eyes widened. "How do you…"

"You're elbow's wet, you've been leaning against a bar and it's not been to talk to a man…you really must curb your overly-sociable habits."

"Well if I didn't have to make up for your incredible rudeness then I wouldn't have to be talkative! if it wasn't for me all our clients would have been frightened off ages ago."

"I'm surprised your stories haven't already done that!"

Watson stood up, his brows stormy, and a little hurt. "Now look here Holmes..."

"You could put your talents to much better use Watson! You used to have the Bradshaw memorized! Think of how useful that would have been today!"

"The only reason I had it memorized was because you never bought the tickets yourself!" Watson spat back. "Normal men have a Bradshaw!" He strode to the door, still wearing his country jacket and took his coat from the rack.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

Holmes watched him, scowling as he slid his arm through the first sleeve, realized he was wearing a coat already and tossed it onto the couch so he could take his other off.

As he did so, a small, heavy object fell from one of the pockets.

Holmes stared at it, then pounced and flipped it open eagerly.

"Look Watson!"

"Good heaven's…the Bradshaw…it was there all the time."

"HA HA! WATSON!" Holmes sprang to his feet and snapped the book shut. "COME ALONG!"

He seized hold of his luggage and surged past the very surprised Watson out the door.

"Wait Holmes!...Where are you going?!"

"There is one last train in half an hour Watson." his voice trailed up echoing in the stairwell. "We can just make it!"

Watson bent to pick up his luggage, then paused and shouted back down the stairs. "Holmes your coat!"

But the opening of the front door told him his friend had already surged outside.

He sighed, picked up the Inverness and his revolver and followed.


End file.
